


Craving

by MythologyPastry



Series: Twisted but Alive [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Fainting, Flirting, Fluff and Angst, Grinding, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kissing, No Sex, morrison's only mentioned tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-11
Updated: 2016-11-11
Packaged: 2018-08-30 07:32:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8524096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MythologyPastry/pseuds/MythologyPastry
Summary: After being tortured for her failure at Volskaya Industries, Widowmaker is surprised to find Reaper attempting to take care of her. They take the time to talk about his developed feelings about the sniper.





	

Despite her confidence at the panel, Widowmaker still stumbles to her quarters, water from her punishment dripping onto the sterile white floor. This time, the medical staff had been ordered to submerge her several times. She coughs, thinking back on the feeling of pressure in her lungs. There's still a faint hint of it in her chest, a reminder that wouldn't leave until tomorrow.

When she gets to her door, she fumbles to type in her personal code. Before she can hit confirm, a wave of dizziness hits her, and her knees buckle as her sight goes pitch black.

 

-

 

There's a hand, rough and warm in her own, and Widowmaker traces a scar with her thumb when she regains consciousness. The arms around hers are bare and sickly pale brown from his ever present injuries. She inhales, the smell of her bunk tainted by the hint of gunpowder and the decay that is Reaper. "Are we spooning?" She asks, drowsily and amused.

"You were shivering, Amélie." His voice is gruff, but she can hear the hint of content in his tone. After the plane ride, Widow was certain he would have left the base on a solo mission. It's his modus operandi to leave after any interaction between them that Talon would frown on. The first time he touched her, -kissing her hard against a column to prevent detection by a camera and dissipating into smoke once he realized she wasn't reciprocating- Reaper left for a month. When he came back, she had to sneak into his room just to talk to him, and the conversation that followed was curt.

"Why are you here?" The frank question makes him still against her, his hand less malleable in her own. "You've never been so generous in your affections." She doesn't have anything against what they're doing, but the sudden change has her concerned.

Reaper pulls himself from her slowly, and she lets out a hiss when his warmth is gone. Widow turns, grabbing at her blankets and covering herself. She meets his eye and ignores the weight in her heart at the sight of his sullen, frustrated expression.

"I wanted to make sure you were okay," He murmurs, running his hands through his hair. "They just let you lay there in the hall, like trash. It's an insult to you and everyone who has to work with you."

"So this was for your pride?" She asks, voice carefully fixed into a monotone. Widow isn't a fool; she knows that he betrayed those at Overwatch for his pride. She knows that if forced, Reaper could just as easily kill her and vice versa. Despite whatever feelings he might have for her, he didn't hesitate to kill Morrison.

His face hardens as he says, "Not fully, no. Is that a bad thing?"

She considers it, not letting her expression give away anything. "I suppose not." Moving as close to the wall as she can on her bunk, she pulls her covers up. "In. I'm cold."

Reaper snorts but joins her anyway. At the touch of her skin, he exhales and shifts closer. "Remember the night after the Bucharest mission?"

Of course she does. They fled to Moldova, waiting further instruction after killing a Romanian politician with former ties to a company that supplied arms to Overwatch. That night was the first they shared together, and she remembers it vividly. "Yes."

"Can we do that again?" He asks, stroking the curve of her hip.

Widow rolls her eyes and kisses his neck. "Yes, but when did you change my clothes? Dressing me in just a shirt and underwear, no wonder I was cold, Gabriel. One could say you planned this."

Reaper pulls her closer by her hips and grinds against her groin with a smirk. "I'm warm enough for both of us. You should know that." A courtesy of Angela Ziegler, his body releases more heat than the average human due to his healing factor. Together, they make the perfect temperature.

Raising her face, Widow meets his eyes and smirks. "Mhm, so exactly like that night in Moldova? I'll be blunt; I don't know if I can make you bend like that again."

He pauses and says, "You can try."

**Author's Note:**

> To be honest, I had this written just after I published Failure, but I've been lazy. Nonetheless, I hope everyone enjoyed this just as much as the first part. I expect to write several more about these two, and hopefully, they won't all be extremely short. Thanks for reading!


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